


Handle with care

by WarwomanWay



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Healing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3190487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarwomanWay/pseuds/WarwomanWay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had broke way before losing Stiles, way before the death of Allison. Maybe she was broken before the thing with Jackson had happened; Lydia Martin was probably born broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handle with care

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Shopping for Presents](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3147233) by [fuzzyfying](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzyfying/pseuds/fuzzyfying). 



It’s a cold January night when the Hale pack finds Stiles’s body buried underneath a blanket of snow. The light in his eyes had faded hours before his lips turned a pale blue color.

Its Lydia who finds him, waking in the middle of the night from a vivid nightmare.  Without any rational thought she is running out in the cold air.

The blood surrounding his body is frozen to the ground around him by the time the banshee dusts the snow from his face.

A broken heart wrenching scream leaves her lungs as she cradles the body close to her chest as  if willing the teen back to life.

Cold dead eyes stare back at her.

Derek arrives ten minutes before the Sherriff’s department arrives to the scene.

He pulls the lifeless body from the banshee’s grasp, tears spilling from his eyes, as he sobs into the cold flesh of his boyfriend.

Lydia crouched in the dirt next to Derek putting her hand on the werewolf’s shoulder, while her other hand carded gently through Stile’s hair.

Sheriff Stilinski arrived on scene breaking down as they loaded his son in the back of the ambulance to take him to the morgue.

Derek had shifted into wolf form, taking off running into the wooded area leaving Lydia standing in the cold watching as everything collapsed around her.

The funeral was a bleak affair. Everyone from the lacrosse team was there, most of the students from their graduating class was there. Scott McCall and his mother Melissa had accompanied the Sheriff never leaving his side as the mourners paid their respects for the fallen teenager.

Derek Hale was not there.

After the funeral Lydia stormed the loft feeling a justified sense of anger, only to find Derek curled on his bed unmoving.

Without a word she slipped out of her heels leaving them beside the bed. Slowly she pulled the sheets back and climbed in next to Derek pulling the motionless man against her.

Both were unable to cry, all the tears were already dried at that point. They laid there in silence until the sun went down then exhaustion overcame them lulling them into a restless sleep.

Walking through the halls of Beacon Hills High School felt emptier on Lydia’s first day back at school after a week away. It hit her that she would no longer hear the ramblings of Stiles no longer see him in the halls. At his locker was a shrine and it made bile rise in her throats at the realization that most of the students that left some sort of memento there didn’t really know the boy who ran with wolves.

She didn’t even make it a full day at school before running out the building with no set destination in mind.

But she found herself at Derek’s loft anyways.

She didn’t knock as she let herself inside to find Derek sitting on the floor staring blankly at the wall.

He turned and looked at her as she walked through the door but that was the only acknowledgment she had gotten.

“I couldn’t do it.” She tells him as she throws herself down on the floor next to him.

Derek just stares at her blinking slightly.

Lydia sighs stretching out her legs. “I couldn’t put on a brave face this time; I couldn’t pretend everything is ok.” She is shaking her head and for the first time since she found her best friend in the snow she feels tears fall down her face. “It’s not ok. It’s never going to be ok.”

She chokes out a sob and Derek wraps an arm around her. They just sit like that for hours in the dark silence just the two of them. It’s the most comfort either one has felt in weeks.

Within a month Lydia is able to finish a complete school day without leaving or hiding out in the bathroom on the verge of an emotional breakdown or without flinching every time she sees the teddy bears surrounding Stiles locker.

She counts it as a small win.

The months blur into one another soon winter turns to spring. The pack slowly starts to heal but there will always be an empty place; A place that no person could ever fill.

As the pack starts to heal Lydia starts to shatter even more, sure she puts on her brave face. The brave face she had once upon a time before a boy with ADHD and a tendency to talk too much broke down her walls.  No one seemed to notice, not really. Not when they all had to cope in their own little way.

But Derek was there.

It started as Lydia taking up most of the research for the pack, Kira helped sure but Lydia sent countless sleepless nights pouring over ancient texts and the internet mostly at Derek’s loft.

Derek’s loft was her new safe haven. It held a lot of memories of Stiles and sometimes if she closed her eyes and picture it hard enough she can see the boy sitting in the arm chair cracking jokes about his boyfriend’s lack of social skills.

In a sick way she spent all her time there just to feel close to him, but she never expcted to grow close to Derek.

“You loved him.” It was a statement not a question and it throws the banshee off guard, because her and Derek don’t talk, not in the way of words and most definitely not about Stiles.

“I still do.” Lydia confesses squeezing her eyes close.

“Me too.” Derek said softly and for a rare moment a smile graced his face, and Lydia felt weak in her knees. Now she knew why Stiles loved Derek. It was because of that smile that could light up the world if only he would let it.

She leaned up against Derek her cheek pressed against his. “He loved us both.” She tells him.

Derek nods. “He did. He was good at that, loving someone who was broken.”

Lydia knew Derek was referring to her as well and yet his words didn’t sting, because yes she was broken. She had broke way before losing Stiles, way before the death of Allison. Maybe she was broken before the thing with Jackson had happened; Lydia Martin was probably born broken.

Derek saw in her what most never did.

The look in Derek’s eyes tells her that he knows what it’s like to walk with the pain inside for so long without anyone there to help share it.

In a moment of weakness, or maybe it was a moment of pure understanding Lydia leaned up and pressed her lips to Derek’s.

Derek stilled for split second before feverishly kissing her back.

“I can’t be Stiles.” Lydia whispers brokenly.

“I know.” He tells her placing a kiss on her forehead.

That night they don’t kiss again but Lydia drags Derek to her bed where he holds her all night, and for the first time since that night she doesn’t dream of blood covered snow.


End file.
